


Lord Vader's Lover

by NaomiPhoenix



Series: Lord Vader's Lover [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BDSM, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Spanking, Suicidal Thoughts, dark!fic, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 05:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiPhoenix/pseuds/NaomiPhoenix
Summary: An abduction, a rescue and an emotional exchange





	Lord Vader's Lover

The eclectic group of males milling about the alleyway _eagerly_ eyes the poster and graffiti riddled durasteel door as they stroked their varied phalli (phalluses) and discussed the variety of fresh meat they hoped to find on the other side; as though it were a butchers shop of the other side and not a brothel stocked with the flesh of kidnapped Imperial citizens.   
  
They were completely surrounded before the white armoured soldiers of the Empire were within range of those with the keenest ears, let alone these with the weakest sight. All attempts at escape were met with stun blasts rather than laser fire, at the direction of Darth Vader, who lead the mission. Let them know the suffering of those inside whom they would have used against their will. Let them know the pain of being _used_ involuntarily. They would all be immediately transported to Kessel to serve a sentence of hard labour until their decease. Let it be a lesson to others who would take pleasure from the unconsenting.   
  
Especially when one amongst the victims inside was the highly-valued and sincerely-esteemed Admiral and second-in-command of Darth Vader, Firmus Piett. The Admiral had been on a well-deserved shore leave, when he apparently went AWOL, or so his abductors had tried to make it appear. But Lord Vader knew his Admirals mind. Knew Piett would not willingly abandon the Empire or the position he had been granted in Death Squadron where he had great power to do so much good.   
  
Those who had tried to tell him otherwise were no longer able to spin false tales.  
  
The ticketmaster, completely unaware of what had happened to all the paying customers, due to no small part to the sound proofing within, and his own disinterest in the security feed, fell backwards off his chair when the door was forced violently open and Darth Vader himself strode in, immediately followed by a tsunami of stormtroopers. He would join the other prisoners and be the first to succumb to their punishment.  
  
The first proof of mishandling of his Admiral came in the form of a holopic: Piett, on his knees wearing a pair of tan trousers and a light blue, long-sleeved shirt, soddened with the water they had used to wash away the blood from a small head wound. In the picture he was being forced to kneel, his head held up by the rough, clawed hand of one of the beings. Despite their masks, Lord Vader knew he had made both of them his prisoners.  
  
Only the lower half of the Admirals body could be seen; his legs chained up and apart so those now in custody might have had an easy time in accessing him for their most base lusts. The bench he was lain on was adjustable, and there was a curtain, so his would-be abusers would have never seen his face at all during the act.  
  
The greatest part of Piett’s submission to this was due to his being drugged.   
  
Lord Vader’s lightsaber made quick work of the chains. With the Force, and gentle durasteel hands, Lord Vader caught his legs before they could fall.   
  
With continued gentleness, which no witness would dare comment on until they were well away from the Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord Vader eased Piett out of the hole in the wall, wrapped him in his cloak and carried him out, stopping only once to hand over the business of dealing with the other victims to Captain Calloway.   
  
But they would have plenty to add to the gossip from the stormtroopers who escorted the Sith Lord and the Admiral back to the Executor, those who saw him carry the smaller man to his own private quarters and the medics who tended to him there.  
  
As the pharmaceutical flush did its job and Piett became more cognitive, he start to talk. Nonsense at first before the memory of his abduction assaulted his befuddled senses.  
  
A touch and Lord Vader ended the re-living. “You are safe, Admiral,” were words enough to calm him.  
  
Eyes still darkly affected, sorted out the dark figure but failed to focus properly. But even if he could have, he could not have seen the surprised expression beneath the mask when he replied, “Yes, my Lord. My master.”  
  
“You are no one slave, Piett. Least of all mine.”  
  
“I am not your slave, my master. I am your willing servant. I _chose_ to serve you,” he replied slowly and with much effort. So much effort, it sapped what little energy he had and he fell into a deep sleep, leaving Lord Vader alone with those words and his own thoughts.  
  
In his sleep Piett developed a fever which burned the last of the drugs from his veins, which the flush had not already removed. With the sheets of the folding cot, sodden but the time it broke, Lord Vader made the decision with coaxing from the Force, to wrap him in his cloak once more and take his Admiral with him into his meditation sphere.  
  
In the medicated atmosphere, Piett started to revive, seeking out the nearest source of warmth in the cool space. The same source of warmth was draped in a layer of silk; firm in some places and as hard as durasteel in others. Then Piett found skin. It had an odd texture to it and it rose and fell steadily beneath his hand. Heavy eyes refused to open, so he continued to explore with the cooperative hand.  Back and forth over differently textured skin, over silk, over silk covering durasteel and back again, to find the juncture between neck and shoulder.  
  
A huff of breath, then another which ended with a gasp as his fingers found the others mouth. The body he was curled up against stiffened for a moment, and a leather-clad hand captured his own but did not move it from where fingers played over lips.  
  
“Admiral?” he heard and felt the other say, the southern Outer Rim accent was a bit of a surprise. Then again, waking up so intimately pressed against someone had come as a surprise to. Piett hadn’t intended to become involved with anyone during his shore leave. In fact, he didn’t even remember meeting with anyone. His shore leave had just started, and he had been getting to know the area where he had gone to, when he found a quaint little cigar house. The staff had been polite and helpful, not pushy at all. He had purchased a fine vintage cigar, and had settled into a private booth to enjoy it with a complimentary glass of vintage port. He wasn’t quite certain if it had been the smoke, the drink of the soft and pleasant instrumental music but Piett recalled he had soon started to feel drowsy…  
  
“Admiral?”  
  
He hadn’t been drowsy - he’d been drugged - he been…Piett’s eyes flew open.  
  
“Calm yourself, Admiral. You are safe.” The stranger holding Piett kept him from falling…off his lap. For several long moments, Piett couldn’t focus on one thing. He was in the strangers lap; he was naked, wrapped in a soft but weighty black cloth, and they were together sealed inside a white orb. When his mind finally caught up with his senses, Piett realised he recognised the interior as the inside of his masters’ meditation sphere.  
  
‘ _Which would mean the man holding me is…_ ’  
  
“My Lord?!” Lord Vader was younger than Piett had ever imagined, perhaps of a similar age to himself. His face was for the most part undamaged, but for a scar cutting across his right brow and a deeper own cutting across his left cheek, which appeared to disappeared up over his left ear. It was hard to tell with the others face so close to his own.  
  
His face was as pale was the back of his head, which only made his key features all the more potent. Dark eyebrows, over icy blue eyes full of sadness and lost hope, and a full lipped mouth a deep, warm pink, by which Lord Vader still held his once-wondering hand. “What happened?” ‘H _ow did I end up here? How am I..? How are we..?_ ’  
  
“You were drugged and abducted, Admiral. But it is behind you now. You are safe.”  
  
Being drugged made sense, as he could recall nothing, ‘ _but rescued from my abductors? Why had they bothered to rescue me? That I allowed this to happen is only proof of my failure to live up to even my own expectations.’_ Proof of his unworthiness.   
  
Revulsion and shame reared their ugly heads. He felt unworthy of his rank and the power it afforded him. He felt undeserving of the power to command Death Squadron. He felt unworthy to walk the halls of the fair Lady Ex and have the command of all but one aboard.  
  
‘ _I should be executed. They should have left me to my abductors…’_  
  
A sharp noise and a flash of pain cease the physical struggle he had not realised he’d engaged in. He had thrown the black cloth covering him aside in his thoughtless efforts, leaving him exposed. “You don’t want that, Admiral. I know you don’t retain any memories of what happened, but believe me when I say: you should be glad you were come for.”  
  
Drugged, abducted and currently naked in Darth Vader’s lap: ‘ _What else could there be to blacken the little good I’ve been allowed to do in my life? Unworthy, unworthy unworthy...’_  
  
“You still don’t get it, do you, Admiral? _I_ rescued you. _I_ have nursed you as you recovered. I am not going to kill you,” he said even as his hand came up to wrap itself around Piett’s throat. “ _You. Are. Irreplaceable._ ” The last three words were enforced by three more strikes on his buttocks. They stung, but his heart stung more.  
  
‘ _Irreplaceable_? _Of course I am replaceable. Countless Admirals before me had been replaced, just as many after me will be. My master does not suffer fools lightly_.’ And Piett knew he was the worst kind of fool - a blind one and a careless one. He should have exercised caution…  
  
“What else must I do to make you understand, Piett? How much further must I take this?” his master hissed in his ear. His masters’ lips suddenly pressed against his neck. They felt so hot against his oversensitive skin, they would surely leave a mark which would never fade. “You are _irreplaceable_. But perhaps it is necessary to punish you,” he purred. “Would you like me to punish you?” he asked, stroking the back of Piett’s neck. “Shall I blindfold you? Shall I bind your arms?” he nuzzled the Admiral’s neck as the other man squirmed. “The doctor told me they prepared you, _minimally_. And they applied a long-wear lubricant. _You’re already prepared to be taken_ ,” he drawled, his accent growing thicker. Piett didn’t have to say a word, his thoughts said everything.  
  
Lord Vader picked him up and set him on his feet. “Hands on the wall, Admiral. Legs apart.” Lord Vader guided him even as he gave the instructions. He took the belt holding his robe closed and tore the silken threads cleanly across the centre.  
  
Lord Vader moved to stand beside him to move Piett’s hands closer together so he could bind them. He could have blindfolded him first but the choice not to was deliberate. Piett kept his head bowed, even as his master moved him. Even if Piett didn’t _look_ , he could still catch a glimpse from the corner of his eye, at what lay beneath. Lord Vader didn’t need to read his mind to know that he did _see_. The deep, hitched breath and the slight widening of Piett’s eyes told him all he needed to know. He was so tempted to make the Admiral look at him, so he could see if the spark of arousal he felt from the other man had affected them, but placed the blindfold over his eyes instead, once his hands were secured.  
  
What he meant to do exactly, Piett could not discern. He dared not ask, and if Lord Vader continued to read his mind, it was his prerogative not to deign to answer.   
  
The next strikes were feathery. It did not register with him immediately when his master ramped up the force behind the strikes. Piett half-recognised he had fallen into a sensual mind haze as Lord Vader switched between strikes and massages with no rhyme or reason. Sometimes with a touch of silk alongside the leather-clad durasteel.  
  
Piett could not think, was hardly able to consider that this might be affecting Lord Vader as it was affecting him until he heard a primal and husky growl issue from his master. A sudden movement stirred a mild breeze which caused goose pimples to rise all over him. At the same time, his arms were guided around Lord Vader’s neck and his feet left the ground, his masters’ lips came crashing down on his.   
  
Just as suddenly as he found himself swept away and weightless, Piett found himself speared to the core, utterly dominated and helpless in his masters’ arms.  
  
Lord Vader’s mouth branded him again and again, lips dancing all over his face and teeth relentless on his neck. The Sith Lord clawed and grasped at his flesh threatening to tear him apart as he thrust into him over and over, vicious and relentless.  
  
When death came, it was bliss. Lord Vader tore him apart and sent him to heaven breathless and dizzy, as his master roared in the throes of his own little death.  
  
Once Piett came to his senses, he found his blindfold and binding removed, still in Lord Vader’s and wrapped up in his cloak again. He could almost believe that none of it had happened, that it had all been some wicked drug-induced dream but his body sang otherwise. His master’s passion still burned within him, and Force willing, thought Piett, it might never go out.   
  
That he was irreplaceable to his master was now utterly burned into his mind, and his soul, never to be forgotten.  
  
“Do you feel you’ve been adequately punished now, Admiral?” Lord Vader asked once his own breath had become less erratic.  
  
Feeling safe in his masters’ arms, and assured of his enduring place by his side, Piett answered wickedly, “Give me twenty minutes, my Lord.” ‘ _Or less,_ ’ as the Sith Lord’s answering growl sparked something within.

**Author's Note:**

> While this story can be read as a standalone, I do hope to eventually complete a sequel.
> 
> Much love to my fellow Pieder shippers for their patience during my writing block <3


End file.
